Empty Pockets
Darkmount - Workshop White cement tile floors complete with floor drains mark this room as a maintenance space even before you see all the machine tools. Toolchests and workbenches are mounted on the walls, with the center of the room left open for access to the lifts and hoists. Air hoses for pneumatic tools hang in reels from the ceiling, easily accessable from any part of the room, and at several points along the rear wall there are connections for fuel, coolant and welding gas hoses. Contents: Fusion Robotic Bald Eagle IED Backbone Obvious exits: Out leads to Darkmount - Atrium. Former Senator Captain Americon says, "Hello, Decepticons! We require volunteers for an experiment... in Ameri--er, I mean, in Darkmount's Workshop! (In America.)" Catechism says, "I s'pose I'm all about volunteering for stupid missions. I'm in." Redshift has arrived. Windshear has arrived. At the moment, Americon--or rather, *Captain Americon* ever since he was given Sentinel Prime's shield--is standing in front of a large technological device, probably as large as Shockwave is tall. It looks basically like someone took five metal spheres of varying sizes, stacked them on top of each other, and then squished them down. Of course, that's not literally how the device was made--that's just how it looks. A qualified scientist would recognize it as a large-scale subspace generator. For everyone else, there's a sticky note on it which says, "Subspace Generator." Fusion walks in. "Did someone say something about an experi--" he begins, then stops himself when he sees the subspace generator. "My my," he murmurs. "This should be interesting. And educational." He pauses and then adds, " Windshear got assigned patrol duty on Cybertron and arrived on the planet sometime earlier. Luckily for him eh was scheduled off fot today so hes wandering around Darkmount sight seeing more or less. Hes bored. The Seeker wanders by the lab as Fusion walks in and he decides to poke his head in and see whats up. Windshear strolls in and looks around. "What was that, Fusion?" he rasps in reply to what he heard the other Seeker say. Catechism reports in for duty, because she has a yen for signing on for every foolish volunteer mission she can find. Call her devoted to the Decepticon cause. Call her a thrill-seeker. Call her just plain bored. After you've been dismantled by more alien monsters than you can count on your hands, fought Neocron, and spoke with Straxus, everything seems a bit lacklustre. Darkwing has arrived. Fusion sighs and looks at Windshear. "Sorry, nothing else to add." he says patiently. "My mistake, sometimes I pause in such a manner that people just expect...well, you know." Windshear nods in reply then looks at the machine, notices the sticky note attached with its description and smirks. He then sees Catechism come into the lab as well. "Ok, seems this is the place to be from the looks of it." he comments to no one in particular. Redshift is always willing to look brave and daring in front of the others, and voluntering for potentially dangerous experiments is as good a way as any to appear fearless in the face of danger! Plus there will be enough other volunteers to prove it isn't deadly or debilitating before Redshift takes his turn. In case of potential acid spray or face-biting, Redshift is wearing a pair of fancy goggles the lenses tinted in shiny gold. He struts up closer to the large, smushed-sphereoid machine, and peers thoughtfully at the post-it note after gingerly lifting one side of his goggles. "It appears to be a SUBSPACE GENERATOR! But for what NEFARIOUS purpose shall we put it? Shunting off Windshear's mass until he is the size of a flea, and semding him to spy on Autobot City?" Robotic Bald Eagle notices the other Decepticons arriving, and turns around with a big stupid grin on his face. "Hello fellow Decepticons! And I'm glad you asked, Redshift! We are here to conduct an AMAZING EXPERIMENT in the name of SCIENCE! The way it works is VERY SIMPLE." He gestures to a platform upon which appears to be large enough for most Decepticons to stand on. "You'll stand on this platform, then you will be scanned for your, uh, subspace thingies! The whatchamacalits!" Captain Americon gestures to another platform, which is identical to the first. "Then we will EXTRACT whatever is inside your subpsace pocket and put it right there! Hope you don't have any skeletons in your closet... your SUBSPACE closet, that is! HA HA HA HA HA!" He laughs for a whole minute. "heh... phew. So, uh, who's first?" Windhsear's mouth drops open and his left wing twitches. "WhWhat?" he asks Redshift as he stares from him to the machine and back. Darkwing seems to have decided to take time away from the slow reconstruction of the great arena, and was mordibly curious about whatever Americon was up to this time. He made his way to the lab slowly. "I see you are still functional Windshear. I had grown curiuous as its been a long time since I last seen you. I'm not sure wither I should be glad or depressed that you are still among the functional and not yet escaped this endless existance of ours." Fusion nods sagely. "Yes yes, that would be one potential use of such a device. A particularly imaginative use, I must say." He starts to walk around it, examining it form other directions. "I'll be willing to go first. However, might I ask why the device is so...large?" Catechism considers what she has in her pockets, shrugs, and moves for the platform. Then, Fusion volunteers to go first, and she steps aside. She comments brightly, "You know, I went to a fair where an alien used a similar device to empty out Rodimus Prime's pockets." Redshift is glad someone else has volunteered, and the red spacer steps back, ensuring his goggles are covering his eyes correctly. "AHA! Yes, that was going to be my next assumption. What with the plundering of dead Autobot's weapons and all. This should be most interesting!" Robotic Bald Eagle again gestures to the platform meant for Decepticons to stand on. "Then be my guest, Fusion! Step right up, step right up! And no, Catechism, this is NOT a fair, this is SERIOUS BUSINESS!" He flaps up right in her face. "So TRY and compose yourself, LADY." He flaps away and lands beside the platform, transforming into robot mode. "Step right up, step right up!" Americon undergoes a patriotic transformation into his All-American robot mode! Windshear looks at Darwking somewhat relaxed now that the real function of that machine has been mentioned. "Yes Im still among the living, though I was in the repair bay the past few cycles.. the usual -- shot by Autobots..." he says that so nonchantly and then steps back to watch Fusion step up to the machine. Fusion steps gingerly onto the platform, then begins looking in different directions. "I suppose I should have asked about specifcs," he comments. "What possible effects this might have on my structure and my own subspace generators. What to do in case of--" Darkwing says, "I think its to late to question your fate, after you step up Fussion." Catechism sighs heavily. Oh, Americon-chan. Er, Captain Americon-chan. Whatever. She crosses her arms and mutters, "It was a planetary expo, and there were ninjas." She looks up at Fusion on the platform with great interest. "Yeah, what if we find his jet mode nosecone in there or something, since he's not sensible enough to wear it on his head?" Captain Americon shrugs at Fusion. "Hell if I know! For all we know, your body will be fused with some horrible subspace monster and try to kill us all! Haha, wouldn't that be ironic, though? Your name's Fusion, and you'd be *fused* with some creature from another dimension!" He looks around at the other Decepticons. "Funny!...? Eh, you guys are the worst audience ever! Well, anyway, I wanted the remote control for this device, but the techies told me that they "wouldn't trust me with a potato gun," which is very insulting! So that is why I have to radio THEM to turn the device on and stuff!" Whipping out a handheld communicator, he speaks into it, "Okay, boys, flip on the switch!" Fusion will notice a bright beam of light scanning him from above, sweeping left to right. Meanwhile, the Subspace Generator hums with power, so much power that the little sticky note attached to it bursts into flames from the raw heat it's generating! And on the empty platform, there appears... Shockwave has connected. Darkwing says, "Americon, You can barely handle a welder without melting your face off. I think the technitions know very much what they are doing when the refuse to give you anything to control a possibly lethal device that will likely turn Fusion inside out."" Windshear eises an optic ridge when the sticky note bursts into flames but stays silent just watching this whole 'experiment'. Fusion drops Fusion's Thermal Beam Cannons. Fusion drops Cyberblade's Thermal Knife. Fusion drops Wheeljack's Shoulder-Mounted Cannons. Fusion says, "Ah...I can explain." "Proceed," Shockwave instructs Fusion, appearing in the doorway in his usual looming way. "This tableau necessitates explanation," Shockwave adds, amplifying his first command. Catechism is standing near the platform of doom, wherein Fusion is now finding himself in an awkward situation. She points over at Captain Americon, and like any good Decepticon, sells him up a creek, "It's all Captain Americon's fault, sir." Captain Americon grumps at Darkwing. "Hey, pal, even if I did melt my face, I've got another one, so THERE! Ha!" Once the contents of Fusion's subspace pocket appear, he glares at the Decepticon. "Shame on you, Fusion! Stealing from Wheeljack! Wait... he was a Decepticon right? Well, whatever!" At Shockwave's arrival, Captain Americon says, "YES SIR, Mr. Secretary of Defense, it is completely my fault and I am proud! We are conducting experiments to practice looting the subspace pockets of people who are not yet dead! We have had one success and zero fatalities so far, so we're doing pretty good!" Fusion scrambles to collect his loot, then looks back and forth with his arms full. "I suppose getting these back /into/ subspace would be useless at this point? Oh well." Then he starts attaching the various items to places on his frame. "I suppose there's no reason to hide them now." He sets one of poor Wheeljack's cannons on his shoulders and leans to that side under the weight until he balances by putting on the other one. Fusion takes Wheeljack's Shoulder-Mounted Cannons. Shockwave's head pans across the room and back to Americon before he asks, "Although I have already calculated a preliminary answer, I will nevertheless ask: have you taken any precautions against the possibility of, among other potential disasters, fusing the aptly-codenamed 'Fusion' with one or more gibbering, non-euclidean entities best described as 'eldritch cosmic monstrosities?'" Windshear has no idea waht the problem is with the shoulder cannons (he has no idea who wheeljack was) being seen and therefore doesnt seem that interested in them. He merely watches and waits for the next volunteer and realizes when its his turn it wont take long, hes got nothing. Captain Americon grins. "Actually, we can stuff them back in, but we can do that later!" Off-camera. "Well, no, sir, we didn't! We thought that might happen but fortunately it did not because it would have been very embarrassing!" He laughs a bit. "Actually, we had no idea what the hell was really going to happen when we threw the switch! Good thing it worked out!" He looks about quizzically. "So anyone else wanna try it! C'mon, don't be square!" Fulcrum has arrived. Catechism steps up to the platform, confident in herself, because if she gets fused with an otherworldly monstrosity, she knows it will just make her just that much more c0re. Catechism's down with that. She raises a hand, almost beseeching, and growls, "Bring it." "Your success is better classified as 'accidental' than 'commendable,'" Shockwave remarks, coming closer to examine the loot thus far yoinked out of warpspace, "but scientific discovery is peppered with beneficial accidents. Continue." "I don't really have much of interest in my subspace storage. My rifle, which I use all the time, a few auxilliery sidearms. Phosphorous bombs, which might be hazardous..." Redshift muses, while trying not to appear interesting. "Catechism would be a most illuminating subject, however." When Americon askks for further volenteers Darkwing is about to 'volenteer' Windshear by shoving him forward, but Cate volenteers offically before he can. So the seeker is safe for now. Fulcrum enters, hopefully unnoticed by anyone focussed on the SCIENCE about to happen. A slight frown creases his faceplate as Cate steps up. This is a highly dangerous and potentially fatal procedure! ...shouldn't the rest of us have a lead shield to stand behind? Captain Americon laughs in agreement with Shockwave. "You're right, and since my life is *filled* with accidents, that just increases our chances of success!" Noticing Catechism on the platform, Americon says into his communicator, "Throw the switch, guys!" And upon the platform, there appears... Evil Roller, an avalanche (but not an Avalanche) of buckets, a starmap, a demolition kit, and some tattered copies of Jane's. Captain Americon stares at the pile that appears on the platform. "Uh... hm. I..." He scratches behind his head. "Yeah. Uh, you like cleaning, huh? I guess?" "The buckets are decorative-slash-ceremonial headpieces," Shockwave explains. Fusillade has arrived. Windshear looks at all the buckets and glances at Catechism.... and back to the buckets. Someone has a bucketfetith he thinks to himself but doesnt say anything. Catechism is on a platform, buried under buckets, next to Evil Roller, a starmap, and some copies of Jane's. She shakes off some of the buckets that are burying her and snatches up one of the copies of Jane's, sighing wistfully, "Now that was a good issue." Roller trundles off the platform listlessly, and one of the buckets... twitches. Fulcrum isn't surprised by the buckets. He's FAR more interested in what appears to be.. NEMESIS ROLLER? "Hn" he grunts. No, that's not Nemesis Roller. Nemesis Roller has a cape. Captain Americon frowns up at Shockwave. "Headpieces? I was a headpiece once, it was fun!" He picks up a bucket that might typically be used by a human and places it upon his head. "Wow, this is interesting!" he cries, his voice sounding much more metallic and reverberating loudly. "But we've really got to get that stuff cleared so we can do the next experiment!" "One of the buckets is semi-mobile," Shockwave points out, indicating the twitching bucket. "Catechism, bring your buckets under order." Shockwave is not having motile buckets in the workshop. Catechism lunges after the bucket - and gets a face full of alien for her troubles! "Gragh!" is about all she can say as it wrestles her to the floor. Roller seems unperturbed by this development. Fulcrum idly taps at a battered hand-scanner. The buckets seem stable, and not likely to implode in a catatrophic subspace inversion. Which, you know, is nice. He absentmindely lifts one foot to stop one of the buckets rolling out the door, displaced as it was by Catechism's tumble. "Now, Catechism," Americon says from behind his bucket, "You have to use a bucket that will fit your head, otherwise you may just bonk yourself on the head!" Darkwing has disconnected. "It appears Catechism's bucket has been colonized by a star-spawn," Shockwave declares. "Fulcrum, Windshear, deal with it." An eyeball rolls out of the bucket Fulcrum stopped with his foot. The eyeball sprouts some tentacles, looks up at Fulcrum, then scurries away amidst squishing noises. Catechism struggles to get the alien, which is sort of a shiny blackish-brown and vaguely shaped like an evil starfish, off her face, but she's really not having much luck. The thing has suckers! Uuugh, Catechism wants a shower and some industrial acid... oh, hey... "As you command, Shockwave" Fulcrum says, trudging towards where Catechism wrestles with the thing. "I shall surgically remove it." He hefts his hammer thoughtfully. Windshear brings his lasers on line and steps toward the offending bucket to fire. Fulcrum has, of course, completely missed the star spawn in the bucket he stopped. No doubt that's going to cause some trouble in the future. Fusion eyes Windshear and then clears well away from the line of fire. After considering it further, he moves around so that the bulk of the subspace generator is between them. Combat: Windshear strikes Catechism with his Grab attack! Catechism has no idea that Fulcrum intends to hammer her in the face and just continues to flail futilely, trying to rip the star spawn off her face and not having much luck. The poor bucket gets shot and falls off the star spawn that is still stuck to her face, rolling and smoking on the floor. Roller, in a fit of pique, decides to drive over the abused bucket, flattening it. "Hey, now," Captain Americon says, glancing about, though he can't see anything with the bucket on his head. "This is not a sterile environment! We can't conduct any surgeries here!" He tries to walk towards the pile of Catechism's stuff, feeling his way forward like a blind man. "And we still have to clear these buckets--DERRRRP!" Alas, he trips on a bucket meant for use by an extremely species of some sort and collapses into the pile of buckets, disappearing under them. Fulcrum, after a lot of thought, reluctantly decides NOT to solve this problem by hitting it very hard with his hammer, an approach that has served him well in so many other situations. He's going to burn it off. Not trusting his aim, he takes his burning sickle from subpsace, the blade hissing as it rapidly goes from burt black to optic-searing red. He carefully approaches the strugging Catechism and her sticky friend, reaching out to press the flat of his red-hot blade against the horrible beast from the corners of space. Of course he's only able to do this now the bucket's out of the way. Nice shooting, Windshear. Windshear pauses and watches the blader draw down near Catechisms face. Its like a trainwreck about to happen, you dont want to look but you cant tear your optics away. Shockwave looks with approval on Roller's killer instinct and Fulcrum's cleanse-and-burn. Catechism's face gets some up-close and personal, hot hot action. No, really. Yielding under the heat of Fulcrum's burning sickle, the alien comes off - but so does the top layer of Catechism's face. You know, that weird piece of too-flexible metal? Yeah, great, now Catechism looks like a Bayverse robot. She also howls, "Owowow! My /face/!" Roller pauses a moment to look at Shockwave and then resumes murdering the bucket. Redshift can do little but laugh at the ongoing bucket/subspace creature/face removal escapade as it unfolds. His flamethrowers would probably prove effective at removing the stubborn creature, but Fulcrum has already stepped up to appy cleansing flames to the problem. "Well. A good lesson in why we should not cram too much into a subspace pocket." Windshear just stares at Catechism and slowly the covers slide over his optics and back again -- a blink. "Uhhh..." hes never going to be able to look at this femme the same way again ... Captain Americon stands up in the middle of the bucket pile, and as the bucket is STILL on his head, he feels his way around awkwardly, his arms smacking into the buckets surrounding and causing an enormous clatter. Fulcrum busies himself in destroying the thing by smashing his sickle against the nearest wall. "Well that's...uh.. hn." he says, turning back to Catechism and losing his train of conversation. He's a combat medic, he's seen a whole lot of horrible things. Still.. she's missing her FACE. "Catechism" he states, his voice carefully flat. "I appear to have taken off your mechadermis with the creature. Try not to go into shock and die." He flips open his communicator. "Kitbash. I'll need a large cyberskin patch. No, a standard one. No, not the one you've been working on with the fins. A normal one." Redshift has disconnected. Windshear is still standing there stock still just staring at Catechism, his mouth still open in a silent 'uhhh'. Catechism just sort of sits on the floor quietly, surrounded by her horde of buckets, as Fulcrum debates robot plastic surgery on the radio with Kitbash. She thinks she'll be okay, once the stinging pain dies down a bit and she can form a coherent thought that isn't 'slagging Pit frag motherboard CPU', but she's been wrong about that before. Shockwave instructs Fulcrum very loudly, "GIVE HER HER FACE." Then more quietly, "Error. Correcting volume settings." Captain Americon continues to wander around blindly, kicking around buckets and raising an enormous racket. "Uh, so, we got anymore volunteers? Someone with not so many buckets?" he yells. Windshear hears the clatter and with a shake of his head forces himself away from staring at Cates face not face and looks at the walking talking bucket. He leans over and yanks the bucket off. "Was it that hard?" he asks tossing the bucket aside. Shockwave assists Fulcrum with fabricating a replacement face for Catechism, paying less attention to the 'experiment' now that it seems to have already been proven to work. Fulcrum me lifts his sickle, showing Shockwave the sticky mess that's what's left of the star spawn and Catechim's mechadermis. "Temporary cyberskin patch to stop infection, full procedure later" he replies, as his assistant Kitbash scurries into the room. He's done this kind of thing before, though it has to be said not USUALLY to someone's whole face. And not usually without being shot at. Maybe Windsheer can toss some buckets over his head and take pot shots or something. Grabbing the patch from Kitbash, he kneels in front of Catechism. Assuming she's cooperative, he'll smooth the patch over her ruined face, a cool numbing sensation flooding her sensors. The patch covers her optics and mouth, but he'll VERY CAREFULLY cut openings with a laser scalpel, and TOTALLY NOT MESS THINGS UP MORE, SERIOUSLY. Captain Americon blinks several times as the bucket is removed from his head. "Oh. Well, actually the bucket WAS pretty durable, so I would say so!" Windshear cant help but smirk a bit at that, "But what if that bucket had one of those aliens in it, then what would you have done?" Catechism tries to not twitch as Fulcrum GIVES HER HER FACE. She gets banged up often enough that she's learned that the doctors don't like it when you scream and squirm. That, and this new face feels kinda nice. Almost minty! Captain Americon had been smiling until Windshear asked that question. He cringes more than a little, imagining some anime monster doing terrible, unthinkable things to him. Windshear kicks a nearby bucket nonchalantly, "Id suggest putting her buckets back where they belong, Americon." he suggests quietly as he looks back at Cate's face now somewhat there again. Fulcrum steps back to run a critical optic over his handywork. It's not pretty but it will do until a proper procedure can be done. The patch can also be used as the base for Catechism's new face, which is handy. "How do you feel?" he asks. "The patch should.." Fulcrum stops, then sniffs. "Wait.. is that mint?" Behind him, Kitbash grins and gives a double thumbs up. "Is the mint beneficial?" Shockwave asks Catechism sternly. Catechism grins and gives a thumbs up. She replies, "Oh, yes! This mint will improve my combat effectiveness at least twofold, I am sure of it. The Autobots will /never/ expect it." That last part, at least, is true, if nothing else is. Catechism stretches and gets up to her feet. "Thanks, Fulcrum and Windshear! If not for you, I'd probably have some horrific alien bursting out of my cockpit by now." That happens a lot. "We'll have to do that later," Americon says, after recovering from the horrifying mental image he had a moment ago. "We're not setup for putting things back into subpsace! We'd need to... uh... polarize the hizzawazzits and stuff." He looks up at Windshear. "Ooh, I know! Let's see what you have in subspace! Come on!" He floats up near Windshear's arm, grabs it, and tries to drag him over to the platform. "Continue the use of mint in future procedures," Shockwave instructs Fulcrum. "It appears to be an effective 'morale-builder.'" "Yes, the mint is.. combat.. effective." Fulcrum trails off, not really sure how to justify this. He settles for running away instead. "I'll just... go and prep medbay for facial reconstructive panelbeating" he says, grabbing his slightly disobediant assistant and hauling him towards the exit. "Catechism, try to avoid any heavy or repeated blows to your face until your new one is installed. And then try to avoid them afterwards, because faces are tricky to install." He nods to Shockwave. then hussles Kitbash out of the room. Angry voices can be heard as the door hisses shut behind them, the argument quickly receeding into the distance. Windshear nods at Cate's comment, "Anytime mam." he says and then hears Americon and feels a tugging on his arm to the platform. he doesnt resist. Afterall hes got nothing to hide and he certainly doesnt have buckets. Fulcrum has disconnected. Captain Americon grins as he drags Windshear onto the platform, and floats away to a safe distance. "Okay, guys!" Americon says into his communicator. "Throw the switch!" And upon the other platform, there appears... nothing? However, the little eyeball creature Fulcrum missed earlier had been watching these events transpire for some time, and once the scientists activate the subspace generator, the creature simply disappears. ...but where did it go? Oooweeeooooo! Windshear looks at the other platform, "yea..." he rasps, "Im boring. I dont have anything though sometimes I have a notpad..." he shrugs, "but not always." Catechism suggests, too cheerily, "Perhaps the monster is in your pocket now, Windshear!" Isn't that just a heart-warming thought? "Keep me updated of the results of further testing," Shockwave adds, directing this instruction to Catechism. "Insofar as doing so does not cause a loss of face. I will be in my office." Windshear looks surprised, "Monster? There was a monster in here? Wait I thougth Fulcrum killed it? Ive got an interloper in my subspace?" Shockwave has disconnected. Captain Americon shrugs. "Maybe there was more than one! Hell, we could be infested for all we know! Well, anyway, this experiment was a lot of fun, so thanks for helping out, guys! Now go clean up these buckets, I have to go play video games!" Americon begins to make for the door at this point. Windshear steps off the platform after Americon, "Wait.. IVe been invaded and you are just going to walk away?" he suddenly trips over a bucket and nearly falls on his aft. Catechism sighs and starts to pick up her buckets, Roller exploring the room off in the background. She notes, "Yeah, you have a pocket monster! You should be fine as long as you never pull it out." "Yep, sorry dude!" Americon calls out just as the door closes behind him. Windshear kicks a bucket and then starts gathering them up muttering in cybertronian things that arent so nice as the little munchkin con hauls aft. Then from time to time hands off a handful of buckets to Catechism and goes back gathering more. "Just what are you doing with all these buckets?" Fusion follows Americon out. "Indeed...good luck with that, Windshear." Catechism explains, "I collect buckets. It's a hobby, you know." She gleefully takes the buckets off Windshear's hands and... tosses them back in subspace. Windshear waves a hand dismissively, "Yea..." he says as he waits for Cate to reply. Windshear looks at Cate. "A...hobby?" Well he cant really condem that, everyone has hobbies. "Do they ever come in handy for anything?" Catechism nods and says cheerily, "Yes, actually! Sometimes, you need to put buckets over the tops of HARM missiles, to protect their sensors, when you're storing them." She continues to gather up more buckets, doot de doo. "You got any hobbies, pretty boy?" Combat: Your COMBAT flag has been cleared. Windshear hands a pile of buckets to her, "Not really but... I think im about too...I have no idea what Im suppose to do with that creature in my sub pocket... might as well try to make it work in my favor..." Fusion returns to the atrium. Fusion has left. Catechism shrugs and points out, "Hey, I apparently had horrible subspace monsters in my pocket for... however long without knowing about it! Could be worse." So says the one who had her face taken off today. James Bailey says, "Is that file encryption analogy supposed to mean that Transformers access a shared subspace, and all it takes is the right code to access someone else's...er, storage space?"